#atsumu

[aurabirds]

I keep forgetting to post to tumblr but I think y'all will like this one~

[hckzee]

miya atsumu didn't believe in love at first sight until it happened to him.

he and osamu made it to school by the skin of their teeth, just before the physical education teacher closed the gate. the twins shared a look of relief before both grabbed each other by the collar.

"ya almost made us late, 'tsumu," osamu snarled, shaking atsumu's collar.

atsuma sneered, "hah?! don't pin this on me, 'samu! yer the one who wouldn't stop hoggin' breakfast!"

"that's 'cuz ya keep eatin' my share, dumbass!"

"yer share?! ma said that plate was f'me!"

before their argument could escalate, a startled shout intervened. atsumu snapped his head towards the gate, seeing you run while fixing your blazer. you were loudly begging the teacher to open the gates for you, but he just shook his head and pointed at his watch, indicating that you were far too late and have to be noted as such.

"damn, sucks to be her," osamu muttered, pushing atsumu away from him. "if ya didn't take yer fat ass outta kitchen, we'd probably be with her by now."

atsumu felt his temple throb the more he listen to his twin. he was about to retort, maybe even call osamu the fat ass twin by how much he eats and demands another serving, but his voice died in his throat as he watched you effortlessly jump over the gates by scaling the walls and gaining momentum via a kick. his eyes never left your flying figure as you landed a few feet away from him.

you squatted when your feet touched the ground, an exhilarated smile spreading on your lips as you congratulated yourself for a job well done. the teacher's mouth hung open, looking back and forth from the gate—which was around six feet tall or more. he groaned, dragging both hands down his face as he instructed you towards the faculty room. the smile on your face immediately vanished, replaced by a cute pout.

"woah," atsumu managed to breath out, heart racing as the scene of you jumping replayed in his mind again and again. he'd never seen anyone jump that high before nor anyone who managed to jump over the school gate that gracefully. his heart thumped against his chest, faint red spreading on his neck, cheeks, and ears as he watched you get scolded by the teacher.

when you noticed a pair of twins watching your scolding, you whined in embarrassment. as the teacher guided you towards tne entrance, you sent a small wave them.

atsumu choked on his spit when you waved at him. he pointed at himself, blinking rapidly, then waved back excitedly. he was unaware of the shaky smile on his lips nor the prominent blush coating his face.

"yer red as a tomato, 'tsumu," osamu cackled, silently taking photos of his twin as backmail material. "don't tell me ya fell in love with that girl!"

atsumu immediately jumped on osamu, shaking his shoulders. "the hell're ya sayin', 'samu?! yer seein' things 'cuz ya ate too much octo sausages earlier!"

"hah?! don't drag ma's octo sausages into this, 'tsumu! just admit ya finally have a crush on a girl!"

"shut yer trap!"

"both of you, go to yer classes already!" a passing teacher snapped at them.

the twins paused and made themselves presentable, nodding. they sneered each other as they finally entered their school building, changing into their indoor shoes.

as atsumu walked towards his classroom, he couldn't help but wish that you were his classmate... not that he'd admit it out loud, though.

[weirdergirlbrina]

Atsumu Miya cannot do casual.

When you two had decided to keep things casual and lowkey, he thought he had it handled.

Easy, right? No labels. No fuss. No reason to tweak out.

Until about 2 days later when Hinata’s casually asking you out to lunch.

Bright grin, sparkling eyes, sunshine practically pouring out of him. You smile sweetly and glance at Atsumu for just a second before accepting.

Something twists in his stomach, something hot and ugly.

Later that night, he's got you pinned beneath his heavy body as you cuddle on the couch.

“Yer not goin' out with him," he grumbles, stubborn frown firmly in place.

"It's just lunch," you laugh, brushing your fingers through his hair gently, “It's friendly”

“Don’t care. Yer my girl, I ain’t lettin Mr. Sunshine steal ya away”

You can’t help the laugh at escapes you, goofy little grin on your lips that cools his head a little, “I thought we were keeping things casual?” you tease lightly.

He puffs out his cheeks, frowning, “I only said yeah cause ya suggested it! If it were up to me, we’d be at the courthouse gettin married right now!”

He immediately freezes, the tips of his ears turning pink, his face morphing into pure horror as he blinks at you.

Like even he can’t believe he just said that.

Lucky for him, you laugh it away, the sound filling the room easily.

He huffs out a little laugh of his own, shyly glancing away from your face, nervous knots in his stomach.

It's almost hard to watch him squirm, his usual confidence nowhere to be found, replaced by something so unbearably sweet and flustered.

You gently pull his face back toward yours, amused smile tugging at your lips, “You wanna marry me already?”

Atsumu groans, immediately burying his face in your shoulder, “Yer makin' fun of me”

"I'm just asking!”

He peeks up at you, ears still burning red, heart beating way too hard.

“I don't think I'm cut out for casual," he suddenly blurts.

The confession hangs in the air for just a moment.

His arms tighten around your waist, “I tried. Really. But every time somebody looks at ya for longer than two seconds, I start tweakin out”

“You’re such a loser”, you tease, scrunching your nose at him, pretending the confession didn’t make your stomach flip.

“I’d bark if ya asked me” he says real serious, pulling a laugh from you.

“Hopeless,” you mumble, cupping his cheeks to leave little kisses all over.

“Eh,” Atsumu shrugs easily, leaning into your touch, “I’m a loverboy, so what?”

————————————————————————

A/N: I’ve got way more time to write now, prepare to be sick of me

loveboy atsumu is so canon to me u can’t tell me that man isn’t obnoxiously in love with his partner

[showhay]

handsy 250K likes special

timeskip!miya atsumu x f!reader

boyfriend!atsumu can’t keep his hands to himself. they’re always on you.. or in. c/w: 1.7k, fluff, heavily suggestive !! read at your own risk :3

​this thing starts with a sock. yes, your sock. which atsumu had tucked into his practice bag like a holy relic because he claimed it ‘smelled like home,’ which was just a fancy way of saying he’s a massive weirdo who can’t function if he isn’t within breathing distance of your skin cells.

​being msby’s star setter apparently didn’t come with enough ego to offset the fact that he was, at his core, a cling-wrap. he loves you so much, he was colonizing your personal space. if you were a planet, atsumu was the moon, the atmosphere, and the annoying little satellites circling you 24/7.

​it wasn’t just the sock though. it was the way he’d walk into the apartment after a ten-hour day of jumping and sweating, look at you sitting on the couch, and collapse onto your lap like a felled redwood tree. he merges into your very soul. and now, he’s currently trying to achieve some sort of biological symbiosis where your skin ended and his began.

​“yer heart’s beating real fast,” he mumbled, his face pressed so firmly into the crook of your neck that his voice sounded like it was coming from underwater. “is it ‘cause i’m home? did ya miss me that much? i bet ya did. i bet ya were cryin’ at the door like a lonely puppy.”

​the irony was thicker than his kansai accent. atsumu was the one who had sent forty-seven line stickers of a weeping bear while he was in the locker room. he was the one currently on top of the moon with the sheer intensity of being within grabbing range.

​“‘tsum, you’re literally crushing my internal organs,” you teased, though your fingers were already tangled in those bleached-blonde locks, scratching at the scalp where the sweat had dried.

​he let out a sound that was half-purr, half-whimper, a pathetic little noise that had no business coming from a man who could serve a volleyball at speeds that caused sonic booms. he shifted, crawling upward until he was straddling your lap, his massive frame dwarfing the cushions. his hands—those famous, expensive setter hands—didn’t go for your waist. no, he went straight for the hem of your shirt, slipping his palms underneath to feel the heat of your lower back. his skin was always scorching, like he was perpetually running a fever of 110 percent devotion.

​“can’t help it,” he whispered, nipping at your jawline with a desperation that was frankly embarrassing for his brand deals. “i spent all day dealin’ with bokuto’s screamin’ and shō’s energy. ‘m depleted. ‘m a battery at one percent, darlin’. need ta recharge.”

​he started trailing kisses up your neck, each one sounding like a suction cup. he was so needy. he wanted to consume your entire essence. he was simpy in the way a victorian poet was simpy—just absolute, unadulterated brain-rot for the person he loved.

​“did ya notice the missing sock?” he asked, pulling back just enough to look at you with those hooded, dark eyes.

​“the one you stole from the laundry basket? atsumu, that’s theft. i’m calling the police.”

​“call ‘em,” he challenged, a lopsided, arrogant grin breaking through his sad puppy facade. “tell ‘em yer boyfriend is a criminal for lovin’ ya. tell ‘em he’s got a fetish for cotton blends that touch yer ankles. see if they care.”

​he leaned in, his nose brushing yours. atsumu was a tactile glutton. even when he wasn’t kissing you, he had to be touching you. a toe on your foot, a finger hooked in your belt loop, his chin resting on your shoulder. he was a human ivy plant, and you were the sturdy brick wall he was intent on overtaking.

​“i’m takin’ ya to the game tomorrow,” he murmured, his hands wandering lower, his thumbs hooking into the waistband of your pajamas. “i want everyone to see ya. i want ‘em to know why i’m playin’ so good. ‘cause i gotta get home to this. to you.”

​the devotion in his voice was enough to make your teeth ache. it was sweet, sticky, and utterly relentless. he pulled you closer, if that was even physically possible, and buried his face in your chest.

​“yer so soft. why’re ya so soft? it’s unfair. i’m all muscle and angles and yer just... perfect.”

∞ྀི

​the msby black jackals locker room smelled like deep heat, expensive cologne, and the lingering scent of victory. the game had ended twenty minutes ago, and while the rest of the team was busy shouting about post-game yakiniku, atsumu was a man on a mission.

​he had spotted you in the stands—obviously, he’d spent half the warm-ups staring at your section until barnes told him to focus—and the moment the final whistle blew, his clingy meter had redlined.

​you barely had time to step into the hallway before a large, sweaty hand shot out, grabbed your wrist, and hauled you into the darkened secondary locker room. the door slammed shut with a heavy thud!, and suddenly, you were pinned against a row of cold metal lockers.

​but the lockers weren’t cold for long. atsumu was a radiator.

​“missed ya,” he growled, and he didn’t wait for a reply.

​his mouth crashed onto yours with the force of a man who had been wandering a desert for forty days. it wasn’t a gentle ‘hello’ kiss. it was a ‘i haven’t seen you in three hours and i’m losing my mind’ kiss. his tongue pushed past your lips with an impatient flick, demanding entry, demanding everything.

​he tasted like gatorade and pure hunger. his hands were everywhere—one tangled in your hair, tugging just enough to tilt your head back to give him better access, the other wandering down, gripping your thigh and hitching it up around his waist.

​“‘tsumu—” you gasped into his mouth, the sound immediately swallowed by another deep, wet slide of his tongue.

​“shut up,” he breathed, his voice a low, vibrating rumble against your lips. “just let me... god, i’ve been thinkin’ ‘bout this since the second set. you in my jersey. lookin’ all cute. makin’ me want to jump the rails, carry ya off, and bend you over on the shower room.”

​he broke the kiss only to attack your neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin right below your ear. he wasn’t being careful, not at all. he left a mark—a dark, blossoming hickey that screamed property of miya atsumu—and he did it with a smug little hum of satisfaction.

​his hand slid under your top, lifting it with his palm hot and calloused as it cupped your chest, his thumb raking over it through the lace of your bra. you let out a sharp, jagged breath as he starts squeezing, licking, and sucking through the lace, your fingers digging into the damp fabric of his jersey. the contrast was insane—the high-octane professional athlete out on the court, and this desperate, trembling mess of a man in the dark.

his touch heavy and possessive, he wanted to feel every curve, every inch of skin he’d been deprived of during the match. his kisses moved back to your mouth, sloppier now, more frantic. you could hear the wet, rhythmic sounds of the both of you making out echoing off the lockers—the slide of tongues, the hitch of your breath, the low, needy groans he kept making in the back of his throat.

​he pulled your bottom lip between his teeth and tugged, hard, before soothing the sting with a slow, agonizing lick. he was acting like he wanted to climb inside your ribcage.

​“ya taste so good,” he muttered, his forehead resting against yours as you both panted for air. his eyes were blown out, dark and glazed with a terrifying amount of affection. “i’m gonna go home and i’m gonna keep ya awake all night. i’m gonna kiss every single inch of ya until ya forget yer own name. ya hear me?”

​you couldn’t even form a sentence. your brain was mush. atsumu took your silence as a challenge, leaning back in to suck on your pulse point, his hands firmly kneading your hips as if he were trying to mold you into a shape that fit him better.

​“miya! we’re leaving! don’t tell me you’re still lookin’ for that sock!” sakusa’s muffled, disgusted voice drifted from the hallway.

​atsumu stiffened, letting out a frustrated hiss. he didn’t pull away, though. instead, he pressed the tent of his shorts against you one last time, a heavy, grounding pressure that made your heart do backflips.

​“i’m never lettin’ ya go,” he whispered, a promise that sounded a lot like a threat to your personal space.

​he pulled back just an inch, his eyes scanning your face with a look so tender it was almost painful. he reached out, thumbing a stray drop of saliva from the corner of your mouth then putting it in his, his expression shifting from feral predator back to hopelessly devoted boyfriend in a heartbeat.

​“go wait by the bus, darlin’. i’ll be out in two minutes. and if i see any guy lookin’ at that mark i just gave ya, i’m hittin’ ‘em with a jump serve.”

​he gave you one last, quick peck on the nose—a jarringly wholesome contrast to the debauchery of the last five minutes—and watched you walk out with the gaze of a man who had just won the lottery and was terrified someone would steal the ticket.

​atsumu was a lot of things: a champion, a twin brother, a fatty, a public figure. but mostly, he was just a guy who would happily live in your pocket if the laws of physics allowed it. and as you walked toward the bus, feeling the tingle on your lips and the weight of his mark on your neck, you knew there wasn’t a single place in the world he’d rather be than stuck to you like cosmic glue.

​he was already texting you before you reached the exit.

slave: “should we try the sturdiness of every furniture again? we’re buying new furnitures with your favorite color if we stain them too much.”

n: awooga, this was kept in my drafts for my eyes only. but i reached a milestone, so there goes my selfish desires.

ps. suggestive fics are in between smut and fluff, no one can torch me for this.

masterlist - the art of haikyū!!

© showhay — don’t copy, repost, or translate without my permission. do not use/feed my works to AI.

iloveu

[daytimemelatonin]

locker rooms are gateways to homosexual activity

adding the non-shaded ver here bc i rlly like it

it was only a matter of time before i drew them shirtless and i hate myself for doing so bc male anatomy is evil and idk why i made myself suffer like that

and actually while i’m on this topic, i am greatly confused by nipple placement on pecs

(i put a mature label on it at first bc idk shirtless damp men but i’ve been seeing more suggestive art that don’t have that label so i removed it (?) let me know if i should put it back)

[wkbsrco]

Looking for the perfect kissing gloss with your boyfriend is like . . .

Mwah! Mwah! Mwah!

You’ve been kissing him for an hour on his bed, but he’s still not yet satisfied—at this point, you think, he never will be.

“Angel, try this one next…” he purrs, handing you the small sparkly tube of gloss.

The goal was to find the perfect kissing gloss, and you had a vast collection. Of course, sponsored by your disgustingly rich and hardworking boyfriend (maybe sugar daddy).

You wipe your lips with a new piece of wet wipe and apply the gloss he handed you. Plop! You puckered your lips, giggling as he looked up at you.

God, he looked so cute when you sat on top of him.

“I could die like this…” he says, awestruck.

You laugh, rolling your hips, knowing how to make it ache. “Like this?”

“You’re so cruel, angel.” He pouts.

For the nth time, you lean down and grab his face. “Then maybe you should punish me.” You whispered before crashing your lips onto his.

Seems like your boyfriend was really getting his money’s worth with these glosses!

Satoru Gojo (Nerdjo), Choso Kamo, Doma, Osamu Dazai, Fyodor Dostoevsky, Toru Oikawa (TS), Atsumu Miya (TS)

© This work belongs to @wkbsrco, DO NOT repost

[haikyu-mp4]

Sakusa never spoke much about his private life while at work. The team knew he had a partner, only because he mentioned it once, and they assumed whoever it was must be similar to him.

So they were shocked when he arrived at the New Year’s party holding hands with you. Your face was adorned with a bright smile and you waved eagerly the second you faced the rest of the attendees.

“This is my fiancé,” Sakusa said, using his free hand to gesture to you as if it wasn’t obvious who he was talking about.

“Hi!” you greeted cheerily.

“If anything happened to her, I would kill everyone in this room and then myself,” he added for no apparent reason other than seeing Atsumu, Bokuto and Hinata’s jaws drop at his unusual display of affection.

You chuckled as if this was completely normal. “It’s so nice to be here, I’ve heard a lot about you!”

“Now get back to the party, thank you.” After finishing his introduction, Sakusa swiped you away so you could both wash your hands in the bathroom.

The silence settled for only a minute, until-

“Pay up, ‘Tsumu. Told you he didn’t make her up.”

masterlist

[kurooangel]

⋆˙⟡ PARTY HEAT ˎˊ˗

cw: timeskip haikyuu. smut. oral (f and m receiving). making out. dry humping. car sex. mlist. taglist

୨ৎ KUROO TETSURO

one moment you were just having fun with your friends, and the next moment you were locked in someone’s bathroom while your boyfriend’s eating you out. back against the wall, legs over kuroo’s shoulders as he is having the time of his life being on his knees, devouring his favourite dessert.

୨ৎ MIYA ATSUMU

you didn’t know how it happened, but suddenly you were dry humping with your best friend’s brother. your lips locked as the people around fades for both of you as your tongues tangle, dancing with each other as if they could feel the music in the room. you feel his hard dick against your thigh, hands gripping the fat of your ass pulling you impossibly closer. surprise for nobody, you ended up riding him in his car.

୨ৎ SUNA RINTARO

you felt his foxy, green eyes locked on you the whole night. you and him weren’t nothing… officially, at least. that’s why right after the guy you were talking to leaves for a second to ask for another drink, suna drags you towards the nearest bathroom, strong grip on your wrist. after a few fierce kisses, needy words and having his hands all over, you finish turned around, your back arched and your knuckles turning white because of how hard you’re gripping the sink while he slams his hips against yours.

୨ৎ BOKUTO KOTARO

he turns so desperate when you’re all dolled up and looking stunning. your tiny dress, the way you look at him while you’re dancing… it’s too much. you’re his girlfriend, he respects you and adores seeing you so pretty, but he loves when you ruin your makeup for him. especially now, that you’re sucking his dick, looking at him with those bambi, glossy eyes while your mascara runs down your cheeks. his moans filling the bathroom as he feels like he’s going to pass out just from the view of you. every inch you take deeper makes him quiver, his grip in your hair tightening as you caresses his beefy thigh soothingly. only to make him go even more feral.